The Remnants of Sabotage
by Lissy Stage
Summary: Harry was absolutely certain it hadn't been his fault; and, from the sounds of Draco Malfoy's laughter, he wouldn't be wrong. Pre-HPDM slash (maybe, maybe not).


**Title:** The Remnants of Sabotage

**Beta**: CleopatraIsMyName

**Challenge/Prompt:** Written for Hogwarts' Potions Class (first assignment; messing up a potion; prompts used: melting, disaster), and for the Your Favourite Hogwarts House Boot Camp (#35, Traitor).

**Rating:** K+

**Word Count**: About 700

**Characters/Pairings:** May be seen as pre-Harry/Draco slash if you want it to be :3

**Disclaimer:** This work of fiction is in no way connected to the author of Harry Potter, JK Rowling. Harry Potter is owned by her, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

* * *

Harry was pretty positive it hadn't been his fault.

No, scratch that. He was _completely_ one-hundred percent certain it hadn't been his fault; that is, when their Phonetic Potion had unexpectedly boiled over, and its fumes, instead of the pale shade of sapphire they were supposed to have been, turned an unappealling shade of sickly green.

Still standing at the corner of the table, collar of his shirt held over his nose and mouth, Harry shot a menacing glare in Malfoy's direction. The irritating git just stood near his own perfectly shaded potion, several metres away, face carefully blank, excepting the slight quirk of his lips. That is, up until he realised Harry was staring at him with death in his eyes. At that, the blond's entire countenance seemed to collapse in on itself. He let loose what appeared to be barely restrained guffaws, bent at the waist as he held his stomach.

"What are you laughing about, Malfoy?" Harry growled; well, tried to, at the very least. Instead, his voice came out an octave too high for a fifteen-year old boy still going through puberty. At the sound of his voice, Malfoy merely glanced up with widened eyes. His laughter seemed to grow dangerous in of itself, as if he were on the verge of death, tears cascading down a trail from tightly shut eyes to lightly flushed cheeks.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry tried again. Unfortunately, his voice, once again, only caused Malfoy to collapse on his knees in his fit of chortles, and Harry could only watch on in frustration. It was then that he noticed the laughter was not only coming from Malfoy's stupid mouth, but all around him.

'_Traitors_,' he thought, gaze flitting from one laughing face to the next. His menacing glare seemed to have a pronounced effect on the members of his house, most coughing awkwardly and almost immediately sobering at his furious expression. On the other side of the class, however, remained the Slytherins, whom were all leaning against something or each other for support.

Malfoy was the cause of this, Harry knew. And he would get back at the git, someday. Soon, really. Harry felt the gears shifting within his mind, and only knew it would be a matter of time before he'd get his revenge on the blond.

"Mister Potter," Snape's voice seemed to cut through his thoughts and the laughter, the professor's own expression blank as he surveyed the evidence of Harry's recent disaster of a potion: the sides of the cauldron were melted slightly, due to the previously boiling state of the liquid, the table blackened, and a few drops still dripping off the edge of the dark wood. "I realise you've obviously no actual presence of mind to register the words on the pages of your textbook," Harry grit his teeth at the words of rage he would, otherwise, spew at the man. "But even those of lower intelligence couldn't possibly bungle up this potion quite as horribly as you have.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for not following instructions, and a week of detention with Mister Filch, starting on Friday."

"But," Harry started, clamping his lips together right away when his high-pitched voice only served to cause yet another round of giggles to burst from the Slytherins. Weren't Slytherins supposed to sneer or cackle? What was even with the giggles?

"Do you wish to cost your House even more points than you already have, Mister Potter?" Snape's carefully upraised eyebrow seemed to only escalate the level of Harry's infinite anger and hatred towards the evil git, though he chose to, wisely, keep his mouth shut. "Mister Potter?"

Harry nodded his head briskly in the positive, closing his textbook and sliding it back to its original position on the table.

With a flick and swish of his wand, Snape _Vanished_ the remaining remnants of Harry's failed potion, and advised him to visit the Hospital Wing. Well, not so much as advised as ordered Harry to leave his classroom, lest Harry manage to mess up something else.

With a last glare in Malfoy's direction, teeth gritted at the smug smirk the prat sent his way, Harry left the classroom and headed towards the Hospital Wing.

'_Oh_,' Harry vowed. '_But I am _so_ getting him back for this_.'

* * *

**Author's Note**:

Harry, your Slytherin is showing!

Hopefully, you enjoyed this ficlet! I do love reviews, ya know :3


End file.
